"This is luxury." he whispered. I shook my head, not being able to process what he was saying properly.
The room was adorned with thrift store goodies, old couches, and smelled-- well, old.
I clutched my Coach bag, gritting my teeth and shook my head once more.
"This is a mistake." I stated, exhaling quickly.
"It is not." he replied, taking my hand.
I squealed at the contact, because-- goodness, this was where he lived, and I don't think this was really what I had in mind when he described his house as 'deluxe'.
"You've got to be more open...